I’d realized I’d fallen in love with him. “You know, on the cosmic scale of coincidences, this one blows everything away.”
His eyes narrowed as he looked at me. “You felt the same? At the same time?” I nodded. “Then it is simple, isn’t it? We were meant to be together.”
“I suppose.” When he frowned, I winked at him. “Gotcha back.”
I found the quarters Joe had prepared for me about an hour after we finished our meal. Reever gave me a proximity scanner and a pistol, the latter of which I promptly returned to him.
“If there are hostile life-forms on board—”
“Then you get to shoot them,” I finished for him. “And if you do shoot them, make sure you don’t hit anything important. Otherwise, you get to assist me in surgery again.”
He pocketed the weapon. “I will go with you.”
“You will go work on the computers while I take a look around,” I said in a firm, don’t-argue-with-me tone. “I’ll take the drone with me. Nine-Six-whatever your name is, you’ll protect me, right?”
The little drone immediately stepped between me and Reever. “Affirmative. Safeguard function activated. Step away from the doctor, Captain.”
I grinned. “You know, this little guy is starting to grow on me.”
Nine-Six-One dutifully protected my body and led the way as we walked through the Truman’s sixteen levels.
“Where’s Medical located?”
“Medical is located on level sixteen.”
Bottom of the ship. We were only on level eight. It figured.
When we passed through the two levels of crew quarters, the little drone stopped in front of one chamber located at the end of the last corridor.
“Notification. Dr. Joseph Grey Veil assigned this compartment to you, Dr. Torin. Would you care to inspect the rooms?”
“Not really. What’s in there?”
The drone had to process that for a minute. “Contents of compartment C-l, food preparation unit, entertainment unit, communications console, personal computer terminal console, utility storage unit, garment storage unit, sleeping platform, lavatory—”
“Discontinue inventory. I get the idea.” I looked at the closed panel again. “Is there anything in there that will harm or incapacitate me?”
“No such item is listed on the compartment inventory file, Dr. Torin.”
Okay, so maybe I was a little curious. “You go in first.”
Nine-Six-One directed a sensor stalk at the access panel, and the door panel slid silently open. He walked in, and after a moment, so did I.
I don’t know what I expected to see—maybe something sterile and utilitarian—but certainly not my old room back at The Grey Veils, the family mansion on Terra.
“God, this is… creepy.” I walked around, still in a state of total disbelief. Everything was there—my Parrish prints, my personal entertainment unit, my collection of archaic jazz discs, even the clothes I’d left behind, hanging in the garment unit.
I went over to a shelf where I had photoscans of Maggie and me when I was little. I picked one particular frame up and turned it over. I’d dropped the original a few years ago, and nicked the back of the case. There was no scratch on this one.
So he’d hung on to the originals and duplicated everything. But why ? Joe didn’t make sentimental gestures. He didn’t do anything without a specific reason. Especially where I was concerned.
Why had the drone told me about this room? “Nine-Six-One, were you programmed by Joseph Grey Veil?”
“Negative.”
“Well, then who programmed you?”
“Full programming was scripted by Willa Cline Industries, auto-format download unit—”
“Never mind.” I went over to the utility unit and opened a door. My old medical case sat inside. Along with a pair of boots I’d forgotten to sterilize. There was still Terran soil caked in the treads.
It’s not the same. It’s simulated. The real boots are back on Terra. So is Joseph.
“Cherijo.”
I jumped, swiveled around, and yelled. “Will you
His eyes narrowed as he looked at me. “You felt the same? At the same time?” I nodded. “Then it is simple, isn’t it? We were meant to be together.”
“I suppose.” When he frowned, I winked at him. “Gotcha back.”
I found the quarters Joe had prepared for me about an hour after we finished our meal. Reever gave me a proximity scanner and a pistol, the latter of which I promptly returned to him.
“If there are hostile life-forms on board—”
“Then you get to shoot them,” I finished for him. “And if you do shoot them, make sure you don’t hit anything important. Otherwise, you get to assist me in surgery again.”
He pocketed the weapon. “I will go with you.”
“You will go work on the computers while I take a look around,” I said in a firm, don’t-argue-with-me tone. “I’ll take the drone with me. Nine-Six-whatever your name is, you’ll protect me, right?”
The little drone immediately stepped between me and Reever. “Affirmative. Safeguard function activated. Step away from the doctor, Captain.”
I grinned. “You know, this little guy is starting to grow on me.”
Nine-Six-One dutifully protected my body and led the way as we walked through the Truman’s sixteen levels.
“Where’s Medical located?”
“Medical is located on level sixteen.”
Bottom of the ship. We were only on level eight. It figured.
When we passed through the two levels of crew quarters, the little drone stopped in front of one chamber located at the end of the last corridor.
“Notification. Dr. Joseph Grey Veil assigned this compartment to you, Dr. Torin. Would you care to inspect the rooms?”
“Not really. What’s in there?”
The drone had to process that for a minute. “Contents of compartment C-l, food preparation unit, entertainment unit, communications console, personal computer terminal console, utility storage unit, garment storage unit, sleeping platform, lavatory—”
“Discontinue inventory. I get the idea.” I looked at the closed panel again. “Is there anything in there that will harm or incapacitate me?”
“No such item is listed on the compartment inventory file, Dr. Torin.”
Okay, so maybe I was a little curious. “You go in first.”
Nine-Six-One directed a sensor stalk at the access panel, and the door panel slid silently open. He walked in, and after a moment, so did I.
I don’t know what I expected to see—maybe something sterile and utilitarian—but certainly not my old room back at The Grey Veils, the family mansion on Terra.
“God, this is… creepy.” I walked around, still in a state of total disbelief. Everything was there—my Parrish prints, my personal entertainment unit, my collection of archaic jazz discs, even the clothes I’d left behind, hanging in the garment unit.
I went over to a shelf where I had photoscans of Maggie and me when I was little. I picked one particular frame up and turned it over. I’d dropped the original a few years ago, and nicked the back of the case. There was no scratch on this one.
So he’d hung on to the originals and duplicated everything. But why ? Joe didn’t make sentimental gestures. He didn’t do anything without a specific reason. Especially where I was concerned.
Why had the drone told me about this room? “Nine-Six-One, were you programmed by Joseph Grey Veil?”
“Negative.”
“Well, then who programmed you?”
“Full programming was scripted by Willa Cline Industries, auto-format download unit—”
“Never mind.” I went over to the utility unit and opened a door. My old medical case sat inside. Along with a pair of boots I’d forgotten to sterilize. There was still Terran soil caked in the treads.
It’s not the same. It’s simulated. The real boots are back on Terra. So is Joseph.
“Cherijo.”
I jumped, swiveled around, and yelled. “Will you
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